What am I but a puppet of meat
Dancing to the push and pull of invisible strings
Vital and sensory organs
Firmly set in the confines of an unbreakable mold
All that I become
Constellated scars
Flesh begat of dust
Burned by flame to ash
Rearranging scars
Into puzzles of flesh while screaming an alchemist's ancient chant
Vainly hoping that they'll transmute into something more than
The sum of their petty parts
What will I become
Constellated scars
Flesh begat of dust
Now an empty husk
Rearranging scars
Clay returned to naught
Gazing at a Hell
Mistaken for an Eden
Halos overhead
When everyone's a sinner
Caged in this distorted reflection of His image
Undulating voices reflecting false divinity
Celebrate their cages instead of breaking
Free from this hell
Caged in this hell
Born into sin
And writhing, each day and night seems never ending
Gazing at a Hell
Mistaken for an Eden
Halos overhead
When everyone's a sinner
Blindingly obeying
The whim of every feeling
Fading in the night
The hope of ever leaving
The metal’s band revelatory new record crosses genres and styles, effortlessly combining seemingly incompatible subgenres. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 26, 2024